


The Sharpest Lives

by ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22611616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup/pseuds/ufohnoparty
Summary: Castiel jumped away from Dean’s hand that was reaching for Cas’ shoulder as if he’d been burned. Dean felt his stomach drop. A visceral, horrible rejection.“Dean, please, I…” he trailed off and all Dean could do was wait for the rest with bated breath. “I don’t want you to touch me anymore. It’s making me crazy. Like you’re sending mixed signals. If you don’t want to be with me, you can’t touch me like that anymore.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 75





	The Sharpest Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Season 9 au type situation.

Castiel jumped away from Dean’s hand that was reaching for Cas’ shoulder as if he’d been burned. Dean felt his stomach drop. A visceral, horrible rejection.

“Dean, please, I…” he trailed off and all Dean could do was wait for the rest with bated breath. “I don’t want you to touch me anymore. It’s making me crazy. Like you’re sending mixed signals. If you don’t want to be with me, you can’t touch me like that anymore.”

Dean’s stomach rolled with nerves like he hadn’t experienced since he was a teen. What the fuck was going on?

Without waiting for a reply, Cas took his coffee and beelined straight for his bunker room. Dean was fuckin’ grateful Sam was out on a run instead of being there to witness that. But now he had to think, to reflect. What the hell kind of way was Dean touching Castiel that was giving _those kinds_ of mixed signals?

He didn’t relish the idea of possibly having to speak to another human any time soon if Sam came back, so he took his coffee and slowly made his way back to his own room to sit on his bed. There, he sat up on the bed, the coffee nearly forgotten on the nightstand and hands crossed in his lap.

Was he weirdly attracted to Castiel? Perhaps. Did he ever intend on making good of those feelings? He thought he hadn’t. He tried to think back to how he touched Castiel in the past that could be seen as a come-on. More than anything, he tended to clap Castiel on the shoulder which was what he had tried to do that morning when the whole thing started. But he also did that to Sammy? Didn’t he?

Well, he hugged Sam, when he was grateful Sam was still alive. He certainly grabbed for Sam in desperation when things got bad. He couldn’t really remember times where he just casually touched Sam’s shoulder for no reason other than it was morning and he was happy to see him. Hmm.

Certainly, he hugged Cas, but wasn’t it in a similar way to Sam? Like he was happy they were both alive and, for the most part, unharmed. There wasn’t anything else, was there? He thought harder. Did he sometimes...touch Cas lower on his back as he moved to stand next to him during a meeting? Did he crowd a little too close to Cas at any chance he could? Was he even consciously doing any of it? Maybe not. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he absolutely was doing it. _Fuck_.

He needed to apologize to Cas, but clearly Cas needed some space. So, Dean resolved to give it to him.

…

He lasted until lunch. Sam was reading in the library, as per usual, and Dean came out to make himself some lunch—PB&J and some chips.

“You’ve been quiet all day,” Sam called.

“Uh…” Dean said midway through spreading the peanut butter.

“You okay?” Sam asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Yeah...just, an off-day, I guess. Feelin’ a little funky.”

“Maybe you need to get out of the house for a bit,” Sam suggested.

“You got a case, Sammy?”

“Nah. All seems to be quiet on the western front.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you and Cas go out to see a movie or something?”

Dean froze for a second. He hoped Sam didn’t notice.

“Why just me and Cas?”

“You guys are best friends. Maybe spending some one on one time outside the bunker could help.”

“We’re best…?” Dean trailed off as Cas rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas greeted, reaching for the Oreos and then disappearing again.

Sam’s face scrunched up and he turned to where Cas had disappeared.

“That was weird. Right?” He asked, turning back to Dean.

Dean shrugged, spreading the jelly on the other bread and pointedly not looking at Sam.

“Did...did something happen?”

“I…”

“You should probably talk to him. Oreos really aren’t that healthy, and given he’s kinda human now, he needs to take better care of his body.”

“You want me to go bust into his room to give him dietary advice?”

Sam gave Dean a look that clearly implied Sam did _not_ want Dean to just bust into Cas’ room. “I just think he’s more likely to take advice coming from you than from me.”

“Why? I’m not any more special than you are.”

Sam’s face got more exaggerated and Dean held up his hands in a placating manner. “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to him. Or, try to, I guess.”

“See if maybe he could use a little fresh air, too. We haven’t had a case in a while so maybe you guys just need to go out and do something.”

“I’ll go talk to him after I eat my lunch.”

And if Dean ate slower than usual, that was definitely none of Sam’s business. Though, truth be told, his appetite was basically back to nothing with how much his stomach was churning. He even did all of the dishes before gathering up his strength to make his way down the hall to Cas’ room.

For several seconds, he just stood there and didn’t move to knock or even call out. He wondered if Cas knew he was there anyway. But it was irrelevant. He took several deep, steadying breaths and finally his knuckles connected with the solid metal door.

“Hey Cas,” he called, “can we talk?”

The question was met with silence. After a few seconds though, the door was pulled open and there was Cas, chewing on an Oreo.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Well,” Dean started, “Sam wanted me to talk to you about your diet, but also that _thing_ you said earlier.”

“Sam can come off his high horse about what people can and can’t eat,” Cas retorted.

“Amen,” Dean said on a snicker.

“But in regards to the other issue, I said what I said and I’m not taking it back. There’s no need for you to touch me.”

“You said I didn’t want to be with you. How could you possibly know that?” Dean was incredibly surprised by the words coming from his mouth.

Cas looked down the hallway, then sighed. “You should come in.” He opened the door wider for Dean to enter.

There wasn’t much furniture in this room, the same as his own. Just a bed, a nightstand, a simple wooden chair, and a simple wooden table. Dean took a seat in the chair. Cas sat on his bed. They were silent for several seconds. Finally, Cas spoke.

“You’ve never made an effort to show me you want to be with me, so I have to assume you don’t. But I keep getting these thoughts in my head, these visions of us together. Because the way you touch me sometimes, it feels so intimate. I never thought I’d want that from a human, that I would even care about it. Perhaps it’s because I’m losing my grace and becoming more human, but part of me thinks this has been there since the day I raised you from hell.”

That was a lot to swallow. Cas _wants_ him? He tried to swallow, a knot forming in his throat.

“What do you think about when you have these visions?” Dean managed to ask lowly, swallowing thickly.

Cas was looking down at his hands, staunchly avoiding eye contact. “Kissing you, holding you close to me, protecting you, _fucking_ you, living out the rest of my mortal life with you.”

Dean's whole body lit on fire from those words. He didn’t know how to respond. Had he thought about those things too? Did he want them?

“Are you...will you be...mortal?” He asked, instead of addressing anything else.

“I’m not sure...but if I am, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel was fixing him with piercing blue eyes then.

Dean felt seen and exposed. It was a horrible, euphoric, terrifying feeling. Castiel...loved him? Was _in love_ with him? Did he feel the same?

“All right,” Dean said.

“ _All right?_ ” Cas echoed. “That’s all you have to say?” He seemed angry.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean…” he said, hastily. “I meant, like ‘all right I’m willing to try.’”

“Oh,” Cas somewhat deflated, the fight going out of him. “So, you _want_ to be with me?”

He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but, “Yes. Well, I want to _try_ being with you. Whatever that entails.”

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “Can I...can I kiss you?”

“Maybe not with a mouth full of Oreo?” Dean said with a small laugh.

“Oh, right. I could...brush my teeth?” He offered.

Dean nodded silently, his stomach dropping when Cas moved to the en suite bathroom for a minute. In that time, Dean had the chance to doubt himself. Was he making the right choice? Was it worth ruining a friendship over? What if things didn’t work out? Would they never talk again? Would Cas disappear forever? Did he really love Cas? Would he just wind up breaking Cas’ heart like he did to everyone else?

But then Cas came back, looking bright-eyed and eager after having brushed his teeth. Dean’s stomach rolled as Cas made the few steps it took to cross to the chair where Dean was sitting. He began to lean down, close to Dean, slowly. It was as if he was giving Dean that extra time to back out or call it off. But instead, Dean reached up and pulled Cas down to him. Their mouths met and parted, slowly together.

Dean was made aware that he hadn’t kissed anyone in _years_. Had he been saving himself…for Cas? The kiss caused his stomach to roll as he enjoyed it immensely. He hadn’t known what to expect, but it was turning him on. When was the last time he even _considered_ that he was actually sexually attracted to men?

Cas tried to move closer but the chair creaked ominously in protest. He pulled back.

“Can we...move this over to the bed?”

Dean had to admit—that took a lot of guts to suggest, but Dean found himself smirking and nodding.

Cas moved back and helped Dean out of the chair. Then, Cas laid on the bed on his side. Dean had just a moment to doubt himself but he pushed it back into the recesses of his mind and dove in, pushing Cas back and getting on top of him. He couldn’t say he was surprised that Cas was hard in his pants, but it had been a long time since he’d had to reconcile with someone else’s boner. The fight or flight nearly activated in him and he almost bolted, but instead, he put his hand right over Cas’ bulge. Cas moaned loudly into his mouth. It was _hot_ , and Dean’s stomach rolled as he felt himself stiffening as well.

He had given himself over to the pleasure, the sensation, the rapture of Cas’ embrace. Both of them were touching each other, rubbing, stroking, kissing. But it was Cas who took it the next step—he put his hand at the hem of Dean’s pants, clearly waiting for Dean to give him a yes or no to go ahead. Dean, in response, grabbed Cas’ hand and put it down his pants. He was achingly hard and having Cas’ fingers around him was setting his brain on fire. Under his pants and boxers, Cas began to stroke. Dean helped him along by unzipping his jeans and opening the flap, giving him more room. He didn’t think he was going to last long watching down his body as Cas’ hand worked him into a fever pitch.

His breath was getting faster and he was getting the tight feeling low in his gut that he was close to climax. He couldn’t even remember the last time he really got off; he hadn’t even been touching himself much at all in the last few years. Had he been waiting for this? Had he just subconsciously stopped seeking anyone else or even pleasure from himself because he needed to be with Cas? Had it all just been leading to this?

And with that, he shot his load over Cas’ hand and inside his boxers. His breathing was labored and he was a little embarrassed at how quickly it happened.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t...done this in a while.”

A smile cracked along Cas’ face, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up into Dean’s eyes.

“Oh my god,” Dean covered his face with his hand, “don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Cas said, feigning ignorance.

“Besotted,” Dean said, feeling stupid about the word.

“Well, maybe I am besotted,” Cas pulled his hand out of Dean’s pants and examined the semen on his hand. “Maybe you are too?” This was said with much more sincerity.

Dean groaned. “It’s…possible. I don’t know. I think I’ve been...ignoring this by jumping into everything else.”

Instead of responding, Cas hopped out of the bed and went back to the bathroom. Dean heard the sink running as he washed his hands off. His stomach dropped, thinking that maybe that was just the end of the whole thing and that actually both of them were supposed to just forget about it and go on with his life, somehow, just after he was starting to feel like he could possibly have this thing he seemed to have always wanted. But then Cas came back and he was still smiling and he made a beeline for Dean, landing on the bed and kissing him deeply.

“How long do you think this could possibly last?” Dean asked severely when Cas broke away for breath.

Cas looked at him for a long time before he finally spoke. “I don’t know. We’re not guaranteed...anything in this life. But, I think we owe it to ourselves to let us have this, even if it is a short amount of time. It’s worth it.”

Dean leaned in and kissed him back. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”


End file.
